Tasting
by L56895
Summary: Being dragged to a shop by Brock leads to an interesting purchase by Ash and Misty


"Welcome!"

Ash yelped as a perfumed woman shot out from behind a counter and launched herself at him, pinching his cheeks. Beside him, Misty stifled a giggle. The woman was stout, with purple hair and a set of pearl rimmed spectacles hanging heavily from a gold chain. Behind her, a beaded door cover jangled next to a display case full of strangely suggestive ornaments. He'd never seen so much clutter in one store before. Her perfume gave him a headache.

"Always a pleasure to have beautiful young people in my store!" the woman stepped back and clapped her hands together as she looked between the three of them, "Do we have a ménage à trois?"

"A what-" Ash started but Misty was already pulling him away.

"It's a sex shop, Ash," she hissed in to his ear, "Just don't make eye contact."

As she led him away from from the gaudy proprietor, he shifted so that she had no choice but to drop her hand to his so he could relish the feel of her warm fingers laced between his. At a display of particularly erotic looking statues Misty stopped and he stepped up close behind her, bent his head to press his face in to the back of her neck.

"So why are we here?" he delighted in the little sigh she let out at the feel of his breath on her skin. Somewhere at the back of the store Brock let out a yelp, presumably having been cornered by their new friend.

"You know Brock," she said simply, as if that were the only explanation needed. They perused in comfortable silence, Ash's blush deepening whenever Misty touched one of the objects on display.

"Why is there so much _wood?"_ he moaned and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I think it's some sort of artistic thing. Brock said there's a room in the back for… _other…_ stuff. But this all seems to be erotic art and candles. Anything take your fancy?" she laughed when he dropped her hand and folded his arms, furious, and planted a kiss on his lips "You forget that I know _exactly_ what you like, Ash Ketchum."

She kissed him again and he relaxed in to her, brought his hands up to her arms to steady himself as he leant her back against the display counter top. Soon enough his thoughts of getting her back to the cabin they were staying in were interrupted by the overwhelming scent of lavender and he broke away and looked down in to bespectacled eyes.

"Can we help you?" he snapped, earning him a jab in the ribs from Misty. The woman seemed to either not notice his rudeness or chose to ignore it.

"I can sense an adventurous young pair when I see one," she wrapped a sturdy arm around each of them and led them determinedly towards the back of the store. Ash's curiosity was piqued at the sight of a large wooden Vileplume statue sat atop a table and surrounded by small wooden bowls.

"Did you know that Vileplume's distinctive pollen, when concentrated and treated, acts as a powerful aphrodisiac? There have been reports of explosive-" she raised her hands to the sky,her voice high, "-orgasms from lovers who have dared to try it. It is an ancient tradition in these parts, an adventure that young lovers partake together, a legendary high and test of trust that we consider as high as marriage. But the question remains, are you ready to scale the heights of pleasure together?

Ash's head was spinning. The smell of incense and perfume was overwhelming this far in to the store and he was acutely aware of Misty pulling closer to the table. He wanted to get out, back on to the busy streets and away from the claustrophobic clutter, but the image of Misty, back arched in pleasure beneath him, rose to his mind and he stepped closer to her. Behind them, the woman was still talking. He caught the occasional phrase, _dizzying highs_ and the _ultimate sharing of experience,_ and with a quick glance at Misty he winked and picked up one of the small packets on the table. This time it was her chance to blush.

* * *

Later, after they had left Brock in the market finding dinner and wandered back to the cabin in the woods, he found her freshly showered and wrapped in a towel on their bed. He stripped down to his boxers and threw himself down on the blankets next to her, waggling his eyebrows when she turned to face him. He kept one hand behind his back.

"What are you up to, Ketchum?" she laughed, eyeing him closely. When he drew out the small packet of powder from the store he felt the heat rising in his cheeks and she matched his blush.

"Are you ready for… what was it?" he put on the dramatic voice of the store owner, "Heights of orgasm?"

Misty pushed herself on to her knees, let the towel fall down around her waist, "Are you sure?" she whispered, "You weren't exactly comfortable in there."

"I'm comfortable here," he said simply and trailed the back of his hand down her bare side.

Gently, with an arm around her waist, he pulled her in to his lap to kiss her. She was warm and smelt of coconuts from the soap she always used as he buried his face in her neck to kiss the sweet skin there. As usual she yielded willingly to him; since the moment they first kissed she had always welcomed his touches, be they clumsy or passionate, and he couldn't get enough of her, this girl that had been a constant for over half of his life.

Ash dipped his fingertips in to the packet, swirled them around the fine powder. It felt strangely warm, tingly against his skin, but soft like satin. Misty had settled in to his lap, knees straddling his hips, and watched him closely. Slowly, he brought his hand up to her face, brushed her lips with the powder, felt her tongue dart out to lick his fingertips. When she met his eyes her pupils were big and black, he could get lost in them, and when he kissed her he tasted the bitter sweet powder on her lips and swallowed.

At first he felt nothing but the softness of her skin under his palms, her mouth hungry on his and the strain of his erection against the fabric of his boxers. Then she pulled away, met his eye and he felt sparks exploding in the back of his mind.

"Muh-" his tongue was heavy and limp in his mouth when he tried to speak, but when she drew him close again and took his mouth his tongue danced with hers. When he pushed her on to her back and pressed his cheek to her hot thigh it was as if his body loosened. His tongue danced over her, hands gripping her thighs, until he felt her quiver under his touch and her fingers tangle in his hair. For a moment the only sound was her gasping breaths, then her moans filled the room and he was lost in her.

Every touch of skin was electrifying and his head swam, as if the nerves in him had multiplied, when she pulled at his hair to make him look up.

Focussing on the blurred sight of his hands gripping the sheets, he braced himself above her as she slipped down the bed, kissing his chest as she went. Every touch of her lips radiated outwards to the very edges of him and when she took him in her mouth he almost collapsed on to her, shuddering at the feel of her lips, her tongue.

The pressure behind his eyelids built up and he curled himself to look at her, stroke her hair, until his senses failed him and the world went black except for the feel of her hot mouth. Then, tumbling, hands grasping for bare skin and the feel of her against him as he rolled on to his back.

The edges of the universe peeled away and snapped back with a jolt. His head fell back against the pillows and he felt the heat of her thighs straddling him. Propping himself up on his elbows, he watched, delirious and fascinated, as she lowered herself down on to his hardness. The world folded in on itself again at the feel of her; hot and wet around him, her hands gripping his shoulders tight.

Later, afternoon shadows spread across her chest and he rolled her on to her back, her arms snaking around him. Panting, nails dragging down his skin.

Later still, him clambering on top of her, chest pressed to her back, as he bit her shoulder to muffle his moans.

Finally, her head flung over the edge of the bed as she screamed, neck exposed to his kisses, his mind cleared of everything and anything that wasn't her, in that moment, completely alive in his arms.

Ash opened his eyes to a dark room. The door was ajar, windows shut, so the only light came from the glow of the living area. Carefully, he disentangled himself from Misty's warm embrace and pushed himself up to peer around the room. The bedside clock told him it was late in the evening- those missing hours a blur- and he blushed scarlet when he saw the glass of water placed carefully on the bedside cabinet. Beside it, a note written in Brock's careful handwriting;

 _Jerks._

 _Drink the water. We'll have the 'drugs' chat in the morning_

 _Xoxo_

Ash groaned and fell back down against the pillow.


End file.
